


too crowded in the basement

by wtfmulder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Post-The Unnatural, Smut, getting caught trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 04:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16111034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wtfmulder/pseuds/wtfmulder
Summary: Mulder and Scully spend another Saturday in the office. Prompts: Diana walks in on Mulder going down on Scully, Scully nervous during first time oral





	too crowded in the basement

_Alright, Dana._ She steeled herself on the desk, closing her eyes as his big, warm hands kneaded her thighs through her skirt.  _Focus._

She was already turned on, damp and throbbing between her legs; that wasn’t the problem. His lips brushed her kneecap, and she sucked in a shuddering breath.

“Lift up for me a little,” he murmured, dragging his hands to the hem of her skirt. She stiffly held up one leg while he bunched up her skirt on one side. He rolled the other side up, too, and whistled low at the sight of her exposed legs. “Please tell me you’ll go hoseless more often.”

“It’s a Saturday,” she said. “I must have left them at home, along with my propriety.”

He laughed, eyes fixed on her lap as he stroked gently from her knees to her thighs. Then he reached down, glancing his fingertips over her smooth calves, and removed her shoes one by one. “Want you to be comfortable,” he explained, bringing one foot into his lap.

Her mind went to the unlocked door, and she knew he what he wanted was impossible. This entire scenario involved a potent mix of vulnerabilities that made her skittish as a field mouse.

“At the risk of sounding too forward…” He bent her toes back lightly, bent them forward, and her head rolled onto her shoulder at the light hum of pleasure it gave her. “I’ve given a lot of thought to this particular act.” At her arched brow and wiggling toes, he squeezed her foot and clarified: “Going down on you.”

Heat rose in her cheeks. “Mulder…”

“You had to have known.” One foot down, he picked up the other and dug his thumbs into her sore arches. “What about me doesn’t scream _pathological need to please_?”  
  
“How disappointingly Freudian of you, Mulder. I thought you were more creative than that. And since  _when_?” She licked her lips. 

“You’re so nervous,” he said, catching her off guard.

She followed his narrowed eyes down to her knuckles, which were curled up and white along the edge of the desk. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m  _not,_ ” she defended, now pulling her legs shut.

“ _Hey there_.” He rubbed her knee, soft and soothing. Maintained eye contact as he leaned down and kissed the spot he’d been touching.

Slowly, she parted her thighs and slid her hands back to hold up her weight, inviting him to continue as she convinced herself to stop. “Someone might walk in,” she said.

But the more they sat there with the possibility between them, the more she wanted that clever mouth of his. Of course she’d thought about it too, perhaps even more than he did. Mulder was attentive. Precise. Tender. He had a beautiful mouth and a swimmer’s tenacity. Of course she’d thought about this.

Only twice now they’d been together; it didn’t feel settled, didn’t feel  _right_ , when she looked in from the outside and remembered how their entire relationship was based on just barely beating the odds. She never needed this much convincing with her previous partners. The stakes had not been quite so high.

“Do you trust me?” He asked quietly, and her eyes slid shut as she nodded, because even when nothing else made sense there was always  _that_.

_Focus, Dana,_ and focus she did. She focused on their first kiss, pressed up against the sandlot’s wire fence, and how proud he looked when he pulled away from her. Like he’d finally hit a home run after a lifetime of striking out. She focused on the look he gave her when she’d nestled down in his bed and bared herself to him for the first time.

She gasped when he gripped her knees and pulled her legs fully apart, and he grunted his approval. “Shit, Scully,” he said, and that meant  _Shit, Scully, you’re wet,_  and _Shit, Scully, look how bad you want this._ He drew his knuckles over the crotch of her panties and pressed in, watching her face as it transformed above him.

Neither of them considered how worked up she would be after simply discussing it, and she could sense how pleased he was by this just by the husk of his voice, dipping lower and lower between her thighs as he kissed her skin. His wet his lips, let his tongue map out a long trail to the crease of her thigh. His palms found the back of her legs and he pushed them upward as he straightened his back and removed her underwear, rolling them down her legs and paying close attention to her face.   
  
“Want me to lock the door?” He rasped, and she couldn’t even bear to think about him stopping. She shook her head and raked her fingers through his hair. It was a Saturday. It was odd enough that they were in the basement, but of course she let Mulder talk her into anything. “Hold this up for me,” he instructed, pushing at her bunched up skirt. She did, and he went straight to work.

He kissed her mons, rubbing his nose into her curls, and it was so loving and tender it stole the breath from her lungs. When her nails scratched lightly against his scalp, he murmured his encouragement, and  _oh_ that was something, his words vibrating in the most intimate of places.

A tiny trail of kisses led him to her slit, and he lapped her juices away with a strong, determined tongue. Fuck. Oh,  _fuck_. He was so determined. Unshakable. Her hips lifted to his mouth and he rolled with it, welcomed it with  _gratitude,_  licking her cunt like she was his last meal.

She’d never known devotion like this. Would call it crazy if it had been anyone else, but she always reserved her benefit of the doubt just for him. When she had to shift her weight, pulling her hand  away from his head to prop herself up on the desk, his eyes rolled up to meet hers. He stared at her with her clit sitting fat on on his tongue. Starry-eyed. Reverent. Green as the grass outside.

It could have been hours, days, weeks of him absolutely turning her into mush, before a click in the corner of the room caught a fragment of her attention. It was a miracle she’d even noticed, but she was apparently functional enough to follow it to the source, peeking over her shoulder with a lazy toss of her head.

_Agent Fowley._

What —  _why_ — in the  _hell —_  “Mulder,” she panted, squirming as she held eye contact with the dark haired woman standing frozen in the doorway. One hand was poised on the doorknob, the other clutched a stack of files tight to her chest. Scully discovered that even now, numbed with pleasure, making a fucking mess on the desk and the man below her, she held an unhealthy capacity for hatred. What was Diana up to? Scully could say with one-hundred percent certainty she hadn’t been _invited._

“Mulder,” she tried again, but that just spurred him on. His lips formed a perfect suction around her clit, not too hard but definitely not soft, and the move paralyzed her. She was helpless to stop as she glared at Diana’s retreating back, quivering and gushing into Mulder’s mouth as she came.

The mortification would hit her later, and not a small amount of guilt. But in the moment and hours after, all she could do was pity Diana, for Scully knew without a doubt the other woman would never know what it felt like to be loved like that.


End file.
